*  

Funston

  *

by James J. Montague
Never any style about him, not imposing on parade;
Couldn't make him look heroic with no end of
braid.
Figure sort o' stout and dumpy, hair and whiskers
kind o' red;
But he's always moving forward when there's
trouble on ahead.
Five foot five o' nerve and daring, eyes pale blue and
steely bright,
Not afraid of men or devils -- that is Funston in a
fight.

Fighter since he learned to toddle, soldier since he
got his growth;
Knows the Spaniard and the savage - for he's fought
and licked them both.
Not much figure in the ballroom, not much hand
at breaking hearts,
Rotten ringer for Apollo, but right there when
something starts.
Just a bunch of brain and muscle, but you always
feel, somehow,
That he'll get what he goes after when he mixes
in a row.

Weyler found out all about him, set a price upon
his head;
Aquinaldo's crafty warriors filled him nearly full
o' lead.
Yellow men and yellow fever tried to cut off his
career,
But since he first hit the war-trail it has never
slipped a gear.
And the heart of all the nation gives a patriotic
throb
At the news that Kansas Funston has again gone
on his job.

Sunflowers, A Book of Kansas Poems
Willard Wattles   -   1916

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June 27, 1997 / John & Susan Howell / Wichita, Kansas / howell@kotn.org

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